Tears In Heaven or First Time for Regret
by Boducky
Summary: Spike listens to the radio one night, and a song brings on a wave of thoughts and emotion. Somewhat sad fic.


**Tears in Heaven (Or First Time for Regret)**

Disclaimer: Nothing that has anything to do with Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to me in any way. This story is just for fun... erm... or not. I don't own T.V. Guide, either. Or either of the songs. But I do own Spike... he is currently tied up in my closet, for I have a headache tonight. Well, truthfully, I just wish I owned Spike. tear

Dawn was vaguely aware of the fact that she should get up off the couch and go to bed, but the truth was... she really didn't want to. The sofa was getting more comfortable by the moment, and the warm breeze coming through the open windows was very pleasant. She tucked her legs closer underneath herself and nuzzled into the warm shoulder she was leaning against. It was so nice being held safe and secure in her movie buddy's arms, and Dawn didn't feel like leaving anytime soon.

Suddenly, a piercing scream filled the room, making the teenager jump and yelp. Then she felt her face flush deep red as the person beside her shook with laughter. "Don't worry, Nibblet," Spike drawled. "I'll protect you from the big bad telly." His eyes flicked away from the screen and he flashed her a cheeky grin.

"I wasn't scared, just... you know... shocked," she shot back. "Besides, the only thing that's scary about _this _movie is how _totally _lame it is." Dawn motioned to the T.V. set, which was playing a really old, black-and-white vampire movie. She and Spike had been flipping through the T.V. Guide a little over an hour ago, and had decided to watch the movie just for laughs.

"I knew this thing would give you nightmares..." the vampire teased, "that you'd end up going to bed clutching a stake." He chuckled again as she started thwacking him over the head with a decorative pillow.

"I'M... thwack NOT... thwack SCARED... thwackthwackthwack." Dawn paused long enough of glimpse at the television, and had a laughing fit. The pale vamp (you could see the pasty make-up on his face) was rising from his coffin. It looked like he had strings attached to him and some inept puppeteer was pulling him out of the box. Then she imagined Spike in that situation... floating out of a coffin every night and then floating over to his fridge for a pint of pig's blood. Dawn then spent the next five minutes rolling on the floor laughing and trying to explain to Spike what was so funny, gasping for air all the while. Spike just looked at her as though she had cracked.

Dawn's laugh attack ended with her laying on the floor by Spike's feet. He looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked, his mouth quirking as he tried not to smile. Dawn stuck her tongue out at him, and then let out a huge yawn. Lack of sleep was finally catching up to her, and she was more than ready to call it a night. She held her hand out to the vampire, who clasped it in his and helped her stand.

"It's past your bedtime, lil' bit." He smoothed back her hair, and then grinned evilly at her. "Good night... sleep tight," he said in a sinister voice, "Don't let the vampires bite." Spike blocked her half-hearted attempt to thwack him with a pillow, and then watched her as she padded up the stairs and out of sight. He stood there and allowed his emotions to wash over him for a moment... affection, fierce protectiveness and sorrow. She was the last one... the only one left of his Summers girls.

Though few people had known it, he had been very fond of Joyce, and he missed her a great deal. And Buffy... well, even though she didn't believe it, though she fought against it, she was his. His to fight with, to love, to protect... though never to hold. He'd never had the chance. And now there was just the Nibblet; hurt and scared and alone no matter how hard everyone tried to keep her from feeling that way. She was trying to live on, she'd even thanked him for trying to save her that night. Called him a hero... her hero. Even thought he'd let them all down...

Spike shook his head, trying to banish his thoughts. Then he looked around at the living room. Willow and the others were out doing the slaying thing with the 'bot, so this had been his 'Dawnie-duty' night. Though it wasn't a duty, not really. He secretly enjoyed spending time with the kid.

Dawnie-duty meant pizza and pop, cheesy movies and, usually, a mess to clean up. Willow and Tara were good about it... they didn't complain using so much words. But Spike's conscience started nagging him the tiniest bit _(shouldn't leave such a mess for the Wiccas to deal with)_, and he started clearing everything up and bringing it to the kitchen. Stupid bloody conscience... it was getting worse all the time, especially since... that night. Once upon a time, he'd have considered himself a good boy for not brutally killing everyone who pissed him off or compared him to that bloody prat Billy Idol. Now he felt guilty for leaving a few dirty dishes around. At this rate, he'd go completely goody two-shoes and not be able to sleep at night without saying his prayers.

Spike made his way to the sink with an armful of dishes and looked around, completely at a loss. There was no space to put them; the sink was full, with dishes precariously balancing in it. There was no available counter space near the sink either, so he set the dishes on the dishes on the table and did the last thing in the world that anyone would have expected of him...

He started filling the sink with water and went looking for the dish soap. On the counter perhaps... no, not there. Under the sink then... AHA! He grabbed the bottle and examined it as though it was a particularly vile bug. The dish soap inside was a pale, creamy pink colour. The label had a bunch of bloody posies on it, and curly pink letters claimed that the soap was 'tough on grease, gentle on hands'. Bloody hell... he wanted to wash dishes, not get a bloody manicure. Though his nail polish was looking a bit chipped... He closed his eyes, dropped his head to his chest and sighed. "I'm turning into a bloody woman," he muttered.

He squirted some soap into the running water and grabbed a dish cloth. He'd never actually done dishes before, but he'd seen people do it often enough... it couldn't be too hard. And if anyone asked, he could just say that Dawn had felt like helping the Wiccas out and decided to do the dishes. Spike was confident that the lil' bit would back him up... if the price was right.

Suddenly he paused, considering something. _Hm... something's missing here,_ he mused. The vampire looked at the sink, trying to figure out what wasn't quite right. _Soap... check. Water... check. Dish gloves... are for women and wusses._ He smirked at this thought. _Dirty dishes... plenty of. Aha! Need music!_ He took the radio's cord, found a power outlet and plugged it in. Then he listened in horror at some sappy love song that had come on. "... my heart will go on and ooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnn..." crooned the woman on the radio. Spike groaned and hung his head again, fervently thanking any and every god that had ever existed that no one was there to see him at that moment. Mercifully, the song ended and an announcer's voice came on._  
_

_  
Enough of this rubbish... let's find us a good rock station._ Spike reached towards the radio and paused, looking for the tuning dial. "Hm... volume dial, power button... how the bloody hell do I change the station?" After a few minutes he just gave up and started on the dishes. Several minutes of scrubbing and scouring and rinsing passed _(bloody hell, I am SUCH a woman)_, when Spike heard the announcer mention something about 'easy listening music'. He hung his head for what felt like the millionth time that night and sighed. Then a slow song started to play, guitar music mingling with the sound of dish washing._ Hm... maybe this won't be so bad...  
_

__

Would you know my name?

If I saw you in heaven?

Would it be the same...

Oh bloody hell. This song. Spike reached out his hand to turn off the radio, and then stopped. He didn't know why... he just had to listen... had to hear the words. He was too tired to care anymore, too tired to put on a brave face. There was no one here, he was alone and safe. Safe to let the music flow through him... and he couldn't help it anymore.

Something deep in the pit of his stomach started coiling up tightly, painfully winding its way in on itself... _The look of horror (disgust) on her face when she found out how he felt..._ a harsh iron fist clamped around his chest, squeezing his dead heart, bleeding it, making it break all over again... _The defeated look on her face, admitting that not all of us would live through the night..._ scalding hot tears burning the backs of his eyes, threatening to spill out at any moment... _Her body lying there, a broken and battered doll. Fragile, beautiful in death, lifeless..._

A small noise escaped from deep inside him... made its way to his throat. A whimper _(mustn't cry)_. Dishes abandoned, Spike hunched over the sink, trying to shrink in on himself, to keep everything inside. His breathing was harsh, almost panicked _(please no, God, not now)_. Legs buckling... _(must hold on, mustn't cry)_

Time can bring you down,

Time can bend your knee (oooohhh).

Time can break your heart,

Have you begging please,

Begging please... 

It was too much. He sank to his knees, gasping through the gut-wrenching pain. Body shuddering violently, he took in gulps of air to try and calm himself, try and make the hurt go away. Then the first salty tears escaped from behind his clenched eyelids, and Spike gave up the fight. He sat with his back against the cupboards, curled up as small as he could make himself.

Buffy was gone, dead... and it felt for all the world like a part of him had died with her. Not only that, but she was gone forever, to him at least. William may not have been much of a man, but he had been a good man, a religious man. And though the monster he had become had often scoffed at words like God and Jesus and salvation, Spike still believed in life after death...

Buffy had been a good person. Well, yes, she could be cruel and annoying and a bloody self-righteous bitch... but she was also giving _(if you weren't a vampire)_ and she cared for others. She had been determined and spirited and... glorious. Spike had no doubt that she was indeed in heaven. If anyone deserved eternal happiness, it was the Slayer... _his_ Slayer. There had to be a heaven, for people like her.__

I'll find my way,

Through night and day,

'Cause I know I just can't stay

Here in heaven.

And if there was a heaven... then there also had to be a hell. And Spike was surely going to end up there... Drusilla had seen to that so many years ago. Angle had gone there, and so would Spike, to suffer eternally. He'd never know peace in death, he'd never know happiness. He'd suffer as much in the next life _(or more)_ as he did in this one. And he'd never see Buffy again. Her friends and family would some day be reunited with her in heaven... they at least had that to look forward to. But Spike truly had nothing left. Heaven was not made for a creature like him.__

Beyond the door,

There's peace I'm sure,

And I know there'll be no more

Tears in heaven.

Suddenly, he heard the soft noise of slipper-clad feet against linoleum. _Bloody hell._ He peeked up cautiously and saw Dawn standing before him, a mixture of sleepiness and sorrow in her expression. Spike's excuse sounded lame even before it passed his lips. "Got dish soap in my eyes. Bloody flowery soap," he muttered, wiping his tears away. Dawn sat down beside him leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I always used to like this song, even though it was really sad," Dawn said, wrapping her arms around one of his. "But now, after everything that's happened... Well, it's _really_ depressing. But it also kinda makes me smile. Buffy's in heaven, and she's happy. And she's with Mom." She turned and looked at Spike, tears glistening in her eyes. "And I know that they'll be there waiting for me. I know it sounds majorly hokey, but sometimes, I really believe it. They're waiting for me... and I'll join them someday. And then we'll be waiting for you."

Spike finally looked at her, shock and anger glistening in his eyes. "Not for a bloody long time," he vowed. "'I'm not going to let anything happen to you. If anything _ever_ tries to hurt you again, I'll kill it." His face softened, and he reached out to play with a strand of her silky hair. "Nothing's ever going to hurt you, Dawn. I'd die before I let that happen."

Dawn paused at the seriousness of his tone, and then cracked a weak smile. "'I have a math exam in a couple of weeks. Can you kill it for me?"

The vampire put on a strict expression and wagged his finger at the teenager. "You're not getting out of it that easily, Nibblet," he said with mock severity. "You'll just have to study like everyone else. A math exam's not going to kill you."

"What if someone raises an evil, demony math exam that's bent on devouring sweet, innocent little teenage girls?" Dawn widened her eyes and stuck out her lip. It had to be one of the cutest puppy dog faces in history.

"'Sweet innocent little girls'?" he smirked. "If that's the case, then you're totally safe." He grinned as she stuck her tongue out at him. "Get back to bed."

Dawn looked around the room, and something close to disbelief flashed in her eyes. "You were washing dishes!" she accused, poking the vampire in the chest. Spike just stood there and stared at her with a defiant expression on his face. Dawn broke into a fit of giggles at the thought of Spike standing in front of a sink, elbow deep in bubbly water and dirty dishes. "The big, bad vampire was _doing dishes_," she gasped between giggles.

"Yeah, so? But if anyone asks, you're the one that did them, alright?" Dawn stood there smirking and wearing a great, big I-can't-wait-to-tell-everyone expression on her face. "There's twenty bucks in it for you," he sighed, conceding defeat.

"'Thirty."

"Done."' Spike smiled and smoothed back stray wisps of hair from around her face. "Now go to bed, alright?"' His eyes widened in shock as she threw herself against him and hugged him tightly. Dawn nuzzled slightly against his chest, and then drew back and smiled at him.

"'Night Spike. I had lots of fun tonight. And the dishes thing... our secret." With that she swept out of the room. He stood there listening as she made her way up the stairs and he heard her bedroom door click shut.__

Beyond the door,

There's peace I'm sure...

He thought about what she'd said, about the three Summers girls... _his_ Summers girls... waiting for him. He smiled sadly and shook his head. She was a sweet girl, his little Dawn. His Nibblet. But she was also terribly naive. For the first time in over a century, Spike was sorry he'd met Drusilla on that fateful night. He'd never resented her for what she'd done before now... in all his long years he'd never regretted what he'd done, what he'd become, more than he did tonight. Thanks to Drusilla, he'd someday lose Dawn, just as he'd lost Buffy forever. Heaven was not meant for a creature like him.__

And I know there'll be no more,

Tears in Heaven.


End file.
